Mass Effect Moments
by Willow in Winter
Summary: Just a collection of drabble about various moments/events in the Mass Effect universe featuring my femShep.  In no particular order, updated randomly.  Spans ME2 and ME3.  May contain spoilers.
1. Awake

"If you need anything else Commander, don't hesitate to ask," said Miranda. "And EDI is always available to assist you."

Shepard nodded her thanks and the Cerberus operative left the cabin, heels clicking as she made her way back to the elevator. The doors swooshed shut.

Silence. At least, as silent as a ship like the Normandy could be. There was always noise; the deep, low pulse of the drive core that was more felt than heard, the quiet hum of the life support systems maintaining the temperature and circulating air. But still, she was finally alone with her thoughts. And now that she was, they threatened to overwhelm her.

She let out a long, shaky breath and sank down onto the smooth leather of her couch, bracing her elbows on her knees and burying her face in her hands.

Dead. For _two_ _years_! When Jacob had first told her it hadn't really processed, or if it did her rational mind wouldn't let her think it through. 'I was dead for two years. Yikes. What's next?' The station had been coming to pieces around them and there hadn't been time to dwell on it. After talking with the Illusive Man (resurrected by _Cerberus_, she wasn't even going to touch that steaming pile of shit yet), they'd gone directly to Freedom's Progress. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred credits.

It didn't help that for every conscious moment since waking up her entire body had been in pain. Literally every system she possessed had protested as she dragged herself off the table in the lab. Her muscles ached, like a krogan had been pounding each one with a meat tenderizer for hours. She woke up with a massive headache. Her stomach had felt like it was trying to decide whether to be sick or not. Her hair hurt. Her eyeballs hurt. It felt like her fucking bones were hurting. But damn it, she was Commander Shepard, and when the voice in her ear said to get up, they were under attack, she got the fuck up. She desperately hoped there was no footage of her getting up though, because she'd promptly folded to the ground after standing on her own two legs for the first time. Her first steps to the locker had been like a baby horse's or something. To say it was 'ungainly' was putting it kindly.

Putting on the N7 was like being embraced by an old friend. And it had been _easy_. Guess you never forgot some things, no matter how long you've been…dead. The familiar weight of a gun in her hand made her feel almost human again. Go figure.

It had been so good to see Tali. Beyond good. The pure joy suffusing through her body at the sight of her friend was the first good feeling she'd had since waking up. She'd even grinned but that made her face feel like it was peeling apart to she had to settle for a sort of constipated grimace. She wished Tali had come with her. A friendly face, or mask as it was, would have been most welcome.

The leather couch was cold. Shepard really hated leather. It felt good to sit down though.

Thinking of Tali inevitably led her to think of the others. Garrus and Liara and Ash and…Kaidan. She squeezed her eyes shut. _God_ she wanted him here. More than anything. Sarah looked at the clock. She would allow herself one minute to wallow in loneliness and self-pity. Then no more. They were all alive, and she would find them. It was as simple as that. But for now…

Dying really sucks, she decided.

Shepard remembered it, the dying that is, at least mostly. She remembered watching the original Normandy come apart like a child's toy as she floated away helplessly. She remembered the hissing in the back of her helmet and _pressure, _but that was it. It was kind of like falling asleep, you remember getting in between the covers and lying there in the darkness but then it's morning again and you kind of wonder how you got there.

Saliva suddenly and unexpectedly started pooling in her mouth. Crap. Shepard launched herself off the couch and into the bathroom, dropping to her knees in front of the toilet. Her stomach roiled and clenched a few times but nothing happened. She swallowed hard. Obviously her body had negative reactions to wallowing.

"Get a grip, Shepard," she whispered tightly to the clinically clean floor.

She stood, her knees wobbling only a little, and stared into the mirror. The face was familiar though the scars were new. Her mouth was the same, the sharpness of her chin, the bones of her cheeks, nothing new. She still had the same smattering of freckles across her nose. Her eyebrows were the same, full with a delicate arch. She experimentally quirked the left one up. That still worked at least. Her hair was the right color, though shorter than it had been. There was something almost-not-quite-right about her eyes; the irises were more…vibrant than they had been before. It was unnerving.

On a whim she stripped, tossing her clothes back out the door, and stood naked. She surveyed herself critically, twisting and turning to see every angle, every plane. The old scars that she'd collected over the years were gone, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin. Those she immediately missed, the physical proof of her last existence wiped away with a scalpel. She was a little paler than she remembered; her new skin had never seen sunlight. Her bra size was the same (she'd checked) and she was trying to figure out if her breasts were defying gravity at little _too_ well when—

"Commander Shepard, are you well? I understand you were awoken prematurely without the appropriate physical and emotional support. If you are experiencing difficulties I can schedule Operative Lawson and Dr. Chakwas to inspect you further."

EDI's sudden voice nearly killed Shepard all over again but she recovered quickly. "Thanks EDI, but I'm fine. Just…checking everything out."

"Very well Shepard. Logging you out."

Sarah grimaced, and chose to overlook that the ship could watch her in her own bathroom.

_Shower_, she thought, and immediately brightened a little. A hot shower could usually make even the bleakest situation just a little bit better. In the end, it wasn't very hot because her normal temperature setting made it feel like millions of drops of molten lava were hurling themselves against her still-oversensitive skin, but it did help.

By the time she got out, sheer mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion was starting to overwhelm her. She had the presence of mind to brush her teeth (which were definitely straighter and whiter) before tumbling into bed, still naked. As her eyes struggled to close she felt a brief moment of blind panic that if she fell asleep all this would be gone and she'd be _really_ dead. Exhaustion won out though and she drifted into unconsciousness.

In the morning she was grateful that her first dream of this new life was not of death and pain, but of Kaidan.


	2. Coffee

I can't be the only one who pranced on down to Life Support the first chance I got. I wasn't expecting anything to be there, but when that coffee cup was still on the table I was like Thaaaaaaaane! So yeah, knew I was going to write about it then and there.

* * *

><p>There was no way it could be his. It was impossible. But her gut twisted to see it anyway and a small part of her mind said, <em>maybe.<em>

She stood in the middle of the room, slightly dumbfounded.

It was late ship-time. The skeleton night crew worked mainly in engineering and up in the CIC. Shepard had seen no one on her way from her cabin to Life Support.

She really didn't know why she was going down there. Possibly she just wanted to feel something _familiar_ after the mad rush to escape Earth and the insanity of Mars. Not that the Life Support room felt very familiar now anyway, not without Thane.

The display of guns was gone; he'd taken those with him when the Normandy dropped him off at the Citadel. The cot was still there, but it was bare of sheets and blankets. The table was there. Her chair was there. His chair was there.

And the coffee cup was there.

There was no way it could be _his_.

The Alliance had been picking over the Normandy SR2 with a fine-toothed comb ever since she'd turned herself and the ship in. They'd done a complete overhaul of the ship, tearing down walls, adding rooms and getting rid of others. She'd even gotten a new paint job. In any case, the ship had been swarming with Alliance techs and workers for months. They'd been in every room a thousand times, inspecting, cleaning, debugging. There was no way they would leave a random coffee mug laying around. Right?

She approached the table tentatively. Through the window the drive core pulsed the same way it always had. The whole room felt _off_ without him there. He had been the focal point (of the room, of her universe, who was to say) and now with him gone Life Support was, well. Lifeless.

Shepard stood awkwardly for a moment, then slowly and gingerly, like she thought it would break, settled herself in _his _chair. It was weird. Like the universe was backwards. She belonged on the other side of the table.

The mug beckoned.

She leaned over cautiously. It had a shallow layer of congealing coffee in the bottom. Her lips twitched into an almost smile. Thane had taken to drinking coffee while on the Normandy, and almost always had a steaming cup in front of him during their talks. Sarah would stop by the mess on her way to their nightly chats and grab coffee for him and tea for herself. She had a theory that he enjoyed the feeling of the warm mug in his hands more than anything else. The ship always ran cold to him.

Leaning forward, and being careful to not move it, she wrapped her two hands around the cup the same way he would. It was cool and hard against her fingers, so unlike _him_ in every way. She withdrew her hands and sighed.

"EDI?" she said, standing.

"Yes Shepard."

"Can you…" Shepard felt like an idiot all of a sudden. Sentimentality really wasn't like her. Even so… "Would you make sure that no one moves this coffee mug?" She grimaced, waiting for the AI to question her.

"Certainly Commander. Is that all?"

Bless your heart, EDI.

"Yes, thank you."

"Logging you off."

The mug seemed…smug.

Shepard half-smiled again, and left.


End file.
